Mortal
by jessewrites
Summary: Directly after Celebrian sails for Valinor, Elladan can't go home. Not yet.


Title: Mortal

Author: Jesse

Rating: PG, vague violence refs

Warning: vague violence?

Disclaimer: not mine, blah…

Summary: Elladan can't go home, not yet.

Note: This occurs directly after Celebrian sails for Valinor.

Elladan glanced around the dark campsite. Everyone had been subdued at dinner. Since Naneth had left, everything had been quiet. He needed space. He could not go home, not yet. Wraith-like, the elf slid from the camp, slipping around the guard and to the horse pickets. Carefully, he untied his stallion and gestured for his loyal horse to follow him, silently.

When the camp woke at dawn the next morning, all traces of Elladan were gone.

Stormchaser whickered at him, signaling their approach to a city; Elladan mentally scolded himself; he had not been paying attention. Halting his horse, Elladan removed a strip of red cloth from his saddlebag and drew his dagger. Using the blade, he cut his hair, shortening it to a length suitable for a human. Then he tied the red cloth around his forehead, presumably to tie his hair back, but truly to hide his ears. Shaking his head to familiarize himself with the new arrangement, Elladan rode on towards the town.

"Who goes?" The guard above the gate demanded.

"I'm called Dan. I- I need a place to stay. I can fight," He called, trying to sound both worried and determined at the same time.

"How old are ye, boy?"

"Eighteen." Elladan countered.

The man snorted derisively. "Ye can fight. Right. Ye're barely old enough to have left yer Mammie's apron."

Elladan went for a defensive tone. "I can fight as well as any of you; better than most, I'd guess."

"Aye and I'm tha king of Mirkwood," the man continued his mocking insults.

Trying to keep his patience, Elladan asked, "What must I do to prove my worth? I just want a place to stay, where I can maybe fight some orcs."

"Alright kid, hold on. I'll talk tae my commander, and he'll see what he thinks himself. Stay there."

"Like I have much choice" Elladan muttered to himself. He watched as the gate opened; several men stood in the gateway.

"Who are ye?" One man wanted to know. Elladan guessed that this was the commander.

"Dan."

"Daniel?"

Elladan nodded, but said nothing.

"Where're ye from, then?"

"Nowhere." Elladan looked away.

"Nowhere?"

"It doesn't matter," he whispered.

"Why'd ye leave there?"

"Nothing to stay for," he said, biting his lip.

"I see. I command tha soldiers here. My name is Andoore. Come in, lad, and we'll see what ye can do." Andoore was not a military minded person, nor was he a particularly good fighter, but he knew one when he saw one, and had made his job on that fact alone. He doubted Dan's courage, after all, he was young yet, but had no doubt of his strength: that was obvious to any that chose to look closely.

Andoore led the way to the practice courts, asking on the way, "Have ye weapons lad?"

"Aye, right nice ones. Elvish make, I believe."

"Elvish, how did ye manage that?" Andoore was surprised when the youth shifted nervously. "Ye didnae steal them, did ye lad?"

"Uh… They belonged to my father?" Dan raised his eyebrows, looking uncertain.

"Are ye asking or telling lad?"

"Asking," Dan answered cheerfully back, a smirk covering his features briefly. The men laughed good-naturedly. The boy had spunk, if nothing else.

"Here, Addramyr, come and fence with tha lad."

"A'ight, sir. 'Twill be my pleasure," the man named Addramyr said in a friendly manner.

"And it will be _my_ pleasure to best you." Dan called cheekily, the smirk back in place.

Andoore watched his best fighter and second in command square off against the youngling. _Doesn't sound like home has much appeal for the lad. There's pain in his past; wonder what happened. He's a good swordsman, _he admitted to himself, watching him easily fend of Addramyr. _If he's as good with a bow as he is with a sword, _he thought as Addramyr's sword went flying, _we could seriously use him._ "Enough, Dan. Who taught ye tae fence like that?"

"No one of importance."

"Close mouthed, I see."

Dan had the grace to blush slightly. "I'd tell you if I thought it would matter to you sir, but I don't think it would."

"I'm fooling with ye, youngling. Come; let's see your skill at archery."

A true smile lit up Dan's face; here, clearly, was something he loved. "Alright! How far are the targets?"

"Hundred paces."

Dan simply nodded. When they arrived, Dan retrieved his bow from where it hung on Stormchaser's saddle and strung it.

The men were laughing. "Ye cannae draw that, lad!" one called, "'Tis bigger than ye are!"

Dan just smiled and knocked an arrow. Drawing it smoothly back to his ear, he released it almost haphazardly, hardly taking the time to sight at all.

The laughter was silenced when the men saw Dan's arrow cleanly in the center of the target. After a few more shots, it was clear that this was no beginner's luck, but that Dan was an experienced archer.

"Come on lad, I'll show ye tha barracks."

"You mean you're taking me on?" The boy's enthusiasm was commendable, and it amused the men to no end.

"Yes lad, from now on, ye're one of us." _Of course,_ Andoore thought dryly, _I'd have asked ye tae stay at any rate; ye're too young tae be out on yer own._

Dan's whoop echoed throughout the courtyard; only Andoore noticed that Stormchaser didn't even bat an eye at his master's yell.

Eyes and murmurs followed him for the first few days. Everyone assumed that Andoore was getting on in years and hadn't realized how young this kid was. He said eighteen, a few people would have guessed that he was lying; some thought it was more like sixteen. It wasn't until the next orc raid, one week later, that he truly proved his worth.

Dan wasn't on watch. He wasn't even on the wall. He was, however, the first one to hear the orcs approaching. He did not say so, of course, but Andoore could tell something was wrong, and when the alarm was called a few moments later, it was not hard to put two and two together. He was also the first on the wall, other than those on watch, as if he expected it to happen, and had only been waiting. His massive longbow drawn, the boy stood on the wall with the grown men, firing into the multitude of orcs.

For a while, Andoore lost track of his newest recruit. When the orcs fled, and the wounded were gathered, Andoore searched frantically among them for his youngest soldier. He found him among the badly wounded, unhurt but tending those around him with a skilled and gentle hand. Relieved that the youngling was unhurt, he went to check the casualties.

There were far less dead than he would have thought, and the wounded were having their injuries seen. Speaking quietly with Addramyr, he asked if Addramyr had seen Dan fighting.

"Aye," Addramyr said, "Th' lad did won'erful. Ah swear he ne'er missed a shot. Twas 'e that kept 'em from ramming tha gates. They couldn't get enough holding tha ram; 'e just kept driving 'em down, either tae cover, or into tha dirt, 'is arrows in 'em."

"That's high praise, coming from ye," Andoore said quietly, thinking.

"And 'e deserves e'ery word o' it, and mair."

Dan stayed in the barracks, since he had no home or family to live with, but Amelia, Andoore's wife, often fussed over him like a mother hen. Their children, Addramyr told Dan one day, had all grown and left Karthinn for other villages.

No matter how Amelia asked and hinted, no word of where Dan had come from, or anything from his past escaped him. The closest anyone came to finding anything out about him was the day Amelia offered to wash his bandanna.

Dan flinched away from her. "No, that's alright," he assured quickly, one hand going protectively to the strip of red cloth.

"Alright, lad. Ye need not worry aboot it so. I wouldna force ye, or anathin'."

He nodded, shaken. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Why is it so important to ye, lad?"

Dan looked away. "It was my mother's." His head ducked and he left on silent feet.

Only minutes later, horn calls sounded, summoning the fighters not on watch to the logging field. Dan grabbed his sword and ran for the stables. Young children were saddling horses, as fast as they could, to be ready when the men were armed. Dan grabbed Stormchaser and moved out into the square.

Andoore was there, armed and ready, with a few other men. "Ye think yer horse'll spook, lad?" Andoore asked.

"No," Dan assured him. "He's steady."

"Then ride!" Andoore gestured for the men to follow, and the soldiers rode for the logging camp just south of the town.

A small party of orcs had attacked the logging camp. The loggers were, the commander noted, holding them back with axes and saws until the soldiers arrived. Andoore chanced to look for his youngest fighter in the midst of the skirmish. Dan's grey stallion was, Andoore saw, as good as a squad himself. No one lived long in range of his iron-shod hooves. Later, he told himself, he would have to ask Dan where he had gotten a trained warhorse.

The battle was brief, since it was daylight, and the loggers rescued. The casualties counted, and found to be small. Andoore took the time to talk to Dan.

"Lad, where'd ye get that beast?"

"Who, Stormchaser? He," Dan swallowed. "He was a gift. From my father."

The way he said it made Andoore guess that Dan might be a little homesick. "'E's a trained warhorse, lad. 'E's worth more'n 'is weight in silver."

"I know." The boy looked away.

"Lad?"

"'Snothing." Dan fled.

"Ye're not runnin' from me, lad. I reckon ye're runnin' from yer past," Andoore mumbled, watching the boy go.

In an orc raid three days later, Andoore decided the lead a salvo from the gate to break the faltering orcs, who were battered from the constant barrage of arrows. "Dan lad! Fetch yer horse!" The boy was a good archer, but Stormchaser was invaluable in a fight. Andoore had a horn blown, signaling the assault, and the gates creaked open.

For a while there was only the press of orcs and the clang of steel, then Andoore saw Dan tumble from his horse, drawn under by an orc. Then the boy stood and Andoore breathed a sigh of relief; he would never forgive himself if anything happened to the boy. He watched as horse and boy threw themselves into the fray.

When the orcs had all fled or been killed, Andoore searched through the bodies of the beasts to find his fallen men. Others trickled by to ask after friends or loved ones, or ask after his health. He was nearly done when Dan approached him.

"Have you seen Stormchaser?" he asked without preamble.

Andoore paused. Come to think of it, he had seen no sign of the horse since the battle had ended. "Nay lad," he said softly. "I haven't. I reckon 'e'll be around in a while though. 'E's a smart beast."

Dan nodded slowly and turned to go. They both knew what would have happened if the horse did not return. Orcs were infamous for eating anything that came their way.

Andoore saw him stiffen over a carcass. "Lad?" he asked in concern.

Dan's knees gave way and he crumpled beside the corpse, and removed something from around its neck. It was clenched tightly in his hand when Dan stumbled to his feet again. There were tears in his eyes when he ran past Andoore.

"Dan!" Andoore cried, alarmed, fearing the boy would leave the safety of the torch-lit village, but he did not. Dan just fled into to town. Andoore considered following, but he had other duties that needed attending.

It was early morning before he thought to look for Dan. It took Andoore an hour to find the boy, hiding in Stormchaser's empty stall, crying silently, hand still clenched around whatever he had found. "Dan lad, tell me wha's wrong." The captain wrapped his arms around the shuddering body and let him cry.

Slowly, Dan sobbed out his story. "Orcs," he choked. "They captured my mother. We found her, but," Dan sobbed, unable to continue for a long moment. "I couldn't be at home, I needed; I had to get away." After a moment of silence, Dan drew away and offered his discovery for view. It was a pendant, once beautiful, but it had tarnished badly, and the diamond at the center was dull. "It was my mother's, her favorite."

"Oh, lad," Andoore murmured, hugging him. Then the man stood and left Dan to his grief, all comfort already offered.

Things around Karthinn had been quiet for almost two weeks when the mayor's daughter fell ill. Whatever illness plagued her, the local healer, Lothelawen, could do little for it. Shortly after, the mayor's wife, then a servant, fell ill. Three days passed, and the servant, who had had the disease the worst, died. Glaelia, the daughter, was very sick when Dan finally went to Lothelawen to offer to help.

He went to her in her little shop. "Lothelawen? How are things, with the mayor?"

"Not well, lad. I fear for Glaelia; she is very ill. And I think the mayor's fallin' sick as well."

"Let me help? I- I have some healing skill. Please?"

"Aye lad. I need all tha help I can get whilst I try tae save that poor lass." She nodded. "Aye, come with me, I was on ma way tae the mayor's now."

Dan followed her, fetching and carrying for the healer whenever she needed things. His soft advice, well phrased as curious questions, likely saved Glaelia's life.

However, the whole village was falling fast, and there was only so much Lothelawen could do. Finally, it was Andoore who suggested that they send for aid. A messenger was sent to "the Healer". Stories had been told for years of the elf that had healed the mayor many, many years ago, and everyone knew the tale. Surely that legendary healer could save them.

It was two days after the messenger left that Dan started to feel ill. His case was not nearly as bad as everyone else's, though. He felt tired, achy, and he had a cough, but his fever stayed low, and he did not seem to be worsening, so he continued to fetch and carry for Lothelawen.

Three days after that, the Healer arrived. Andoore, still healthy, but one of the few, met him at the gates. "My lord," he said. "We're so glad you could come."

The regal elf smiled. "Of course. I'm called Elrond. Where is the village healer? I would speak with her."

"Of course, My Lord. Follow me." Andoore led the way to Lothelawen's, the elf lord and two others following behind. The healing woman was thrilled to see the elf lord, and they spent all afternoon moving among the sick, the three elves bringing healing.

Finally, they appeared done. "Is this everyone?" Elrond asked.

"Well," Lothelawen said, thinking, "That's e'eryone but Dan. Andoore," she called across the road to the barracks, "Where's that boy of yer's gotten hisself to?"

Andoore and Addramyr came out of the barracks. Addramyr spoke, offering, "I'll go look for 'im, sir."

"Thanks," Andoore said. "Try the stables."

The two elves that had helped heal the villagers had left, but now one returned. "Ada," he said breathlessly. "'Chaser is going crazy. I can't get him clamed down."

"Andoore, Lothelawen, this is my son, Elrohir. What, Ion-nin?"

"'Chaser. He's going crazy. The handlers can't calm him. _I_ can't calm him."

"I guess, have Glor take him outside the walls so that if he must be destructive, it won't be here. Ion-nin, we apparently have one more patient. Someone has gone to find him."

"Ada, ask," Elrond's son swallowed. "Ask if they've seen Elladan."

"Of course. Andoore, surely you'd know. My son, my eldest, went missing a few months ago. We don't know what happened to him. Has he come through here? He and Elrohir are twins."

Andoore looked at the younger elf for a long moment, something niggling in the back of his mind. 'Nay," he said finally, unable to place the elf. "Ye look striking familiar, but no elf has come through here in many a season.''

Elrohir looked away, unable to hide his disappointment. Elrond said, "Thank you. We have looked everywhere, I had hoped," Elrond cut off, shaking his head.

Just then a loud whinny cut the air. Elrohir groaned. "'Chaser!" The horse came barreling down the road, ignoring startled yelps, only halting when Elrohir stepped into his path. Hands akimbo, Elrohir began to lecture the horse in elvish.

Andoore stared, agape.

Misinterpreting his confusion, Elrond assured, "It's quite alright. Elrohir has a gift with horses. He helped train Stormchaser."

Just then, Addramyr and Dan trotted up. "Andoore, you wanted…" Dan trailed off.

Several things happened all at once. Stormchaser darted around Elrohir, Elrohir turned and saw Dan, and Dan yelped "Ada!"

Then Stormchaser's nose was butting into Dan's chest, and Dan was hugging the horse, laughing with tears streaming down his face. He only let go of the horse when Elrohir tackled him in a hug, sending them both onto the ground, crying and laughing.

Elrond could only stare, tears in his own eyes as his sons rolled on the ground, wrestling. "Ion-nin," he whispered. Then Elladan was up, and Elrond was hugging him, ignoring his tears, just so glad to see his son.

Andoore smiled, understanding why Elrohir had looked so familiar. Dan's hair was shorter, but they truly were twins; only the red bandanna marked Elladan from Elrohir. He was glad Dan had found his family.

Epilogue

Elladan smiled as he rode into Imladris. It had been too long. Looking around, seeing the places his mother had loved, he no longer felt the pain of her departure, only the profound joy that she had been here, left him places, things by which to remember her. His hand touched the pendant hanging around his neck. The star-shaped gem was shining again, and like his memories of Celebrian, would never fade. "It's good to be home," he murmured.

His twin, beside him grinned as they dismounted and handed their horses to the hostlers. "Race you to the baths!" Elrohir cried, pushing Elladan and bolting.

Elladan yelped and gave chase.

Elrond, watching, smiled. Things were back to normal in Imladris, now that his sons were here, causing trouble.


End file.
